


Ville Lumière

by lizlee83



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, LadyNoir - Freeform, Miraculous Ladybug - Freeform, Romance, adrienette - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8005459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizlee83/pseuds/lizlee83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ladybug and Chat Noir face off with an opponent with more skill and evil intent than they've ever seen. When their usual bag of tricks fail, and with only each other to rely on, will they have the strength to dash the plans of this new threat?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Medusa

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! This is the first chapter of my Miraculous Ladybug fanfic, based off my piece of fanart (which you can find on my tumblr: lizleeillustration!) I've never EVER submitted a piece of my writing before so I'm sorry if it's not perfect. I also write in a very descriptive manner which might be a little much to some people, bewarned! Anyway, fluff, action and angst; LadyNoir trash which I hope you nevertheless find tasteful. I hope somebody out there likes it:) 
> 
> WARNING: This chapter, though it is mild, contains violence.

They’d faced much tougher akumas than this one. She was certain of it.

She mentally sifted through past opponents, puzzled, as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. In the past, the strikes had been more dizzying, the blows more staggering… and the intent, far more lethal. By contrast, this akuma victim, a marine biology student from the Université Pierre et Marie Curie, seemed almost passive in her approach, floating idly along the city’s updrafts. She had introduced herself as Medusa in a dreamy voice, and not done much else, except draw the attention of shocked onlookers. Indeed, as unfortunately accustomed as they may have grown to monsters, those Parisians that lingered outside couldn’t help but gawk as she floated past about 5 storeys up, an impossibly long trail of iridescent pink tentacles suspended in her wake. Even those glimmering appendages crowning her head seemed docile, slowly entangling and de-tangling themselves around whatever the akuma passed on her deliberate promenade. The evening streets were set aglow with the dull blush of Medusa’s bioluminescent form, as the akuma had transformed the student’s body into a gelatinous, transparent silhouette of its former self.

As a result, Medusa hadn’t been hard to find; but the eerie grace of this monster had even caused Ladybug to take pause once she’d finally joined her on a wide rooftop. She stood cautiously at the ready when Chat finally joined her, unleashing a barrage of horrible marine puns at the creature as he did. His verbal onslaught was the only kind of attack happening however, as they stood there, uncharacteristically hesitant. Medusa had apparently not antagonized anyone or anything in particular beyond causing a fair amount of shock among the citizenry. In fact, even as they'd faced off, Ladybug remembered her simply hanging in the air idly, enshrined in a dazzling halo of tentacles, her absent pink eyes distantly looking through them.

“I'm _jelly_ of her outfit,” Chat attempted, in vain.

“Not now Kitty…” Ladybug scolded softly with habitual patience. Her gaze was trained on the akuma and its slow, hypnotic wavering. The pair stood transfixed for a while, uncertain of what to do. For all the usual trepidation that came with akuma-hunting, this all seemed extremely anticlimactic, somehow.

“Do you see an akumatized object in all that goo, Milady? Because I don't…” the black cat offered, in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Me neither,” she admitted.

They exchanged perplexed glances as the akuma lazed aloft. Ladybug took the lead, Tikki whispering in her mind to be on her guard. It was awkward. They’d never had to actually provoke a confrontation with an akuma before. Crumbling buildings, flying debris and horrified screams were their usual cue to intervene in a fight already well started. Ladybug actually considered the ridiculous notion of introducing herself back to the akuma for a split second - because well, how else does one start a conversation, she thought - but instead grabbed hold of her yo-yo.

“What is it you want?” she asked it carefully.

Chat flanked her, baton at the ready. The placid monster’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly, though she showed no sign of aggression as she descended a few dozen feet towards them.

“....I want to help,” the honey soft voice had replied.

“Are you _pawsitive_ about that?” Chat asked dubiously, meriting himself a light elbow jab from his partner.

“Something bad has happened to you.” Ladybug ventured, slowly closing the gap between them whilst trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. She never dreamed of the day she’d be trying to reassure an akuma, but it seemed there was a first time for everything.

“We can help you.”

“That is so very kind,” said Medusa with a serene smile. “But you are quite powerless to do so.” In the time it had taken Chat to raise his brow at the cryptic threat, Ladybug had noticed it, but all too late.

“Damn,” she thought, instantly knowing that she’d allowed the unusual encounter with this seemingly zen akuma lower her defenses.

They had both been careless. As a result, she’d completely missed how the bystanders on the streets below had begun to collapse. Missed how the normal sounds of dusk in the city - the hum of cafes, the clatter of bicycle wheels and the chatter of evening strolls - had all but vanished. Missed how the majority of the creature’s tentacles were not part of the mass on its translucent head, but in fact emanated in thousands of barely visible threads sprouting from all over her body... all of which had wrapped themselves around almost everything in their path. The realization that she and Chat were now trapped like unassuming insects in her gelatinous web hit her with considerable alarm.

“CHAT, the tentacles!” she cried out, casting her yoyo towards a nearby roof for leverage as she made to take off. She pulled with all her superheroic might, but for naught. Her feet remained cemented to the roof in the invisible grip, and she’d almost pulled her spine out of alignment from the backlash of resistance. Her partner was not having any more luck.

“Well,” he began, struggling as he tried in vain to pry himself free with his baton, “this is certainly a sticky situ-”

"CHAT,” she groaned.

“Well, it IS,” he defended, though his keen green eyes were now lit with concern.

The trapped duo veered its gaze towards the akuma. She hadn’t moved an inch. Her lack of concern was almost insulting, not to mention that she seemed to be watching them with the same sort of amused discouragement one might reserve for rambunctious kittens.

“Do not struggle” she cooed gently, “the more you struggle, the more it will hurt. I do not wish for any of you to suffer…I wish only to help you.” Thus far, their kwami-powered suits had blunted the effects, but Ladybug realized with panic that the tentacles were not, in fact, mere restraints. The buzzing numbness in her limbs which she had at first attributed to adrenaline was slowly giving way to a very unpleasant burning sensation, coupled with an unnatural fatigue which was beginning to blunt her senses. She knew that if they had lasted this long, it was thanks to their kwamis’ powers. Otherwise, they’d have succumbed just as easily as all the other bystanders to the tentacles’ painful narcotic effects. Chat Noir seemed to come to the very same conclusion as well, and grunted with discomfort.

“These things are burning through our suits,” he growled.

“And draining our energy, ” she completed anxiously. “We have to get free, we’re _sitting ducks_!”

Ladybug knew by the cunning grin which suddenly revealed his fangs, that Chat had an idea, and that it was most likely dangerous. Keeping his frustrating tendency for self-sacrifice in mind, she braced herself for what he had planned. There was little choice anyway; they were running low on options.

“Great idea, Milady,” he declared cockily as he straightened, despite an obvious cringe of pain. “ _DUCK!_ ”

Any reservations she may have had were immediately overshadowed by her absolute trust in Chat. They’d fought and won countless battles together, and they’d soon learned that their instinctual capacity to rely on each other was key to their success. As hesitant as she may have felt, she acquiesced almost immediately. She ducked backwards, as far away from him as she could despite her feet and legs being trapped in the invisible webs, almost performing a bridge to give him clearer access. He raised his clawed hand.

“CATACLYSM!” he roared, striking out.

Anyone witnesses might have assumed that Chat’s deadly final attack was aimed at her, but she knew better. Bent as far away from him as possible, the furious hit instead encountered invisible resistance just shy of her immobilized feet. Hundreds of minuscule threads instantly lit up in a sickly neon green before burning up in the wake of Cataclysm’s devastating effect. Ladybug was free. Chat Noir wasn’t so fortunate. The immense power depletion from the use of his only final blow combined with the debilitating influence of Medusa’s tentacles was taking its toll. He crumbled to his knees, with the merciless akuma appendages seizing his hands the moment they touched the ground for support. The familiar alarm from his cat-paw ring sounded, confirming what Ladybug feared. He had only minutes left, probably less, if the drain on her own energy levels was any indication. Though her heart sank with worry for her fallen partner, she had to act quickly on the precious opportunity he had given her. She extricated herself from the stringy remnants of her prison and leapt towards the akuma. Infuriatingly, it was as calm as ever, barely affording Ladybug a glance.

“I told you not to struggle,” Medusa repeated evenly, her ghostly smile unwavering. “Now it will _have_ to hurt.”

Ladybug scowled at the threat, heaving her yoyo skywards with determination. Chat muttered something undecipherable in her wake; she took it as a sign that he would soon de-transform. She had to hurry.

“LUCKY CHA-”

Her voice was strangled in her throat, as though the air was sucked from her very lungs. Her limbs felt as though they were liquefying, and her head spun dangerously. The concrete surged upwards, pounding her weakened frame with unexpected violence. She had not only fallen… she was being thrown. Once. Twice. Countless times, from her inexplicably tethered ankle. The young heroine’s confusion could only be matched by the blinding pain cascading through her ragdoll body. Tikki could barely suppress it.

The urgent beep of her earrings, the desperation in Chat’s voice calling her name, and the taste of warm iron flooding her mouth were the last things she remembered before the world went black.


	2. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of their failed confrontation with Medusa, the two unmasked and defeated superheroes juggle with a challenge of a different kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of battle! My writing's nowhere near perfect, but I hope you're enjoying this:) I have an idea of where to go with this, mostly based on fanart pics I've doodled, haha. Any comments and crit totally welcome. Thanks so much for reading! :D

“..y….ug……… ug….. Ak… up!” 

The garbled voice was totally unfamiliar to her, but she lacked the strength to even wonder who it was. She wouldn’t listen to the pleading little sound anyway. She was too tired to wake up and deal with this. Much too tired. Though she tried to force them back down into the comfortable darkness, her slowly returning wits indicated a rather ferocious roiling in her stomach, a faint prodding on her arm and a dull ache in her head. In fact, there was dull ache pretty much everywhere. Nowhere in her body felt even remotely alright, as sensation slowly trickled back to its battered recesses. 

“Wake up!” 

This had never happened before. 

She couldn’t feel Tikki anymore. Couldn’t remember how they’d gotten away. The rough embrace of wet concrete beneath her cheek confirmed all of sudden, that they hadn’t… and that worse still, whatever she would face next, she would have to face as Marinette.   
Disjointed and disturbing thoughts of the confrontation washed over her, as two voices now intermingled above her. Her heart leapt with fear. What had happened? 

The prodding was now on her nose. 

“If she doesn’t wake up, you’re going to have to intervene!” 

“I can’t!” Chat replied desperately, “You know I can’t!!” 

Chat!

His voice was a welcome beacon of recognition, causing her concussed brain to perk up and the anxiety in her veins to dissolve a little bit, simply because he was alive. Talking. ...And likely gazing upon her civilian form, as her stomach suddenly noted with a panicked lurch. She tried to will her arms to move in a desperately futile attempt to cover her face, but to no avail. Her limbs stubbornly refused to respond, as though they’d been submerged in molasses, though her pulse raced with trepidation. 

“You’re going to have to,” the small, squeaky voice insisted angrily, meanwhile. “Poking her isn’t helping and I can’t lift her. Not without any Camembert at least!!” 

“Plagg, I can’t risk seeing her secret identity, and she can’t see mine. I’ve respected her wishes for 2 years and I won’t go back on my word now!” 

“Well I’m SURE she’ll appreciate that sweet gesture from beyond the grave,” was the sarcastic response. 

“Ugh, FINE! But we’re doing this my way.” Chat spat in frustration. 

“Or maybe I could just TELL you who it is, and then we could skip all this angst,” the squeaky voice sneered.

“Shut it, Plagg” Chat snapped, though his hesitant voice betrayed his curiosity. (He WAS a cat, after all.) “You don’t even know…” 

“I COULD know...maybe….” the kwami countered, though its tone already indicated defeat. They all knew that this particular taboo was off limits, as indicated by the heavy silence which followed the snarky suggestion. Marinette was glad for it; she had not at all liked where the conversation was heading, nor the semi-comatose state which prevented her from applying a well-deserved smack to the situation. 

Chat addressed Marinette next, and even through the fog in her mind, she definitely felt a hand on her leg as he did.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” he fumbled, “I can’t see what I’m touching Milady, PLEASE don’t be mad!! But I swear I’m doing this for your own good!” 

Her muddled brain flickered in sudden understanding, and she forced her consciousness to make the last leap forward. She almost wished she hadn’t; every bone in her body seemed to creak in unison, though she was now beginning to realize that the damage was somehow tolerable. She was certain Tikki had something to do with that, even though the Lucky Charm had failed. Despite clearly hearing whom she could only assume was Chat’s uppity kwami, her own was conspicuously silent. The thought sent tremors of dread throughout her broken frame, though she was thankfully beginning to fully awaken and feel-

Hands on her thighs.

CHAT!!! Her mind screamed, though only the faintest of groans escaped her. His hands clumsily travelled up her slumped frame, inadvertently setting some of her worst injuries ablaze. She was not looking forward to ascertaining the damage. 

“She’s going to finish what that akuma started and murder you” Plagg mentioned casually, as she felt Chat’s searching touch on her arms and shoulders next, grateful that certain “key” areas had been skipped. 

Her body finally began to respond to her commands. She didn’t want to admit it, but Chat’s gentle presence had helped ground her, though she only had half an idea of what he was doing. 

“Oh look, she’s waking up… I guess all it took was-

Chat hushed what was most certainly going to be a groping-related pun, as his hands finally found their target. Just as Marinette made to open her eyes, her lashes met resistance. She saw darkness, but felt warmth on her face. Warmth… but no claws. 

“Mmm…. Chat…?” 

She was surprised at the frailty of her own voice, but also at the proximity of his. 

“I’m here,” he replied gently. His tone lacked its usual playfulness. 

Every fibre of her being protesting her weak state of consciousness, she instinctively made to remove the offending obstruction from her face. Her partner stopped her, carefully grabbing her weakened hands with his free one. 

“Wait. We’re… not transformed anymore, Ladybug.”

Likely sensing how hard she bucked beneath his touch at the revelation, which she had desperately hoped was a dream, he tried to reassure her. 

“It’s alright, my eyes are closed! I had to make sure that yours were too because… well…you know. I’m.. I’m really sorry about this.”

Once she got her heart to calm its pace some, Marinette was again stricken by how different her partner sounded. The apologetic sheepishness in his voice was completely out of character, though she supposed it was normal, given their current state. No more disguises or performances. Still, she hadn’t imagined the contrast being so stark and… somehow familiar? It made her self-conscious, and she hoped Chat couldn’t somehow piece together too much from her civilian reactions. 

“Okay,” she acknowledged quietly. “I'll keep my eyes closed.”

Despite the promise, her curiosity skyrocketed as she grew acutely aware of how tempting the situation actually was. She could feel Chat hovering over her, as he gently hoisted her off the pavement and into his lap. One of his hands wrapped itself around her shoulders while he lifted the other from her face, clearly confident she would never betray him. That much was definitely true, but Marinette couldn’t stop herself from thinking that in this position, years of wondering and tension could be resolved in the literal blink of an eye. Of course, she respected her partner in crime-fighting far too much to steal a peek, but still, their vulnerability in that moment prompted all sorts of unexpected reactions. For one thing, while she was used to Chat holding onto her in one manner or another during their often acrobatic exchanges, she had never felt the true warmth of his skin before. His hands were soft as they brushed her shoulder; his touch careful. She tried not to think about that. It made him almost too… real. Too close. 

Though thin it was, the layer of distance created by their suits provided a barrier which was far more than physical, though she was only then acknowledging it. It allowed them to perform their roles with confidence, safe in the knowledge that they could carry out what they needed to outside confines of daily realities like names, jobs, homework, social class. Anonymity was such a precious commodity, and to be so exposed before each other then was humbling...not to mention far more alluring than she cared to admit. She never imagined that such mundane things could make her pulse thrum: “He’s wearing a shirt! What feels like jeans! That means Chat is actually a casual guy in real life (no surprise there!)! Or maybe he had just been caught unaware in the comfort of his home when he last transformed? Wait… is that… cologne? Oh god, Chat smells ...good! Really good! Oh god, stop!!” she implored her brain, chastising herself for such frivolity. 

“Are you alright, Milady?” Chat asked uncertainly at the imposing silence. If he’d been permitted the use of his eyes, he’d have noticed the a furious blush on Marinette’s cheeks as she desperately tried to control her racing thoughts. Of course, she’d have noticed the same on his, were she allowed. 

“Y-yes. This is just… a bit weird,” she confessed.

“I know,” he agreed. He helped her up from her slumped position as best he could. Though she tried to suppress it, a hiss of displeasure escaped her. The pain sent her previous girlish meanderings plummeting back to the depths, as she sought a posture which didn’t make her want to scream. 

“Be careful, Bugginette,” Chat advised. “You were hit… really hard. You have to take it easy.” 

The reality of the situation thundered back to the forefront.

“Chat...Where’s Tikki? My… my kwami. Have you seen her?” Her voice cracked. “I can’t… I can’t sense her.” 

“She’s here. Well, sort of.” The squeaky, mischievous voice had returned, but it sounded solemn, somehow. “But she dematerialized.” 

“What do you mean?” Chat and Ladybug echoed in tandem. 

Plagg sighed with dramatic exasperation. 

“Tikki needs time to regenerate on the kwami plane. She was so drained by that akuma that she’s unable to retain her physical form, as tiny as it is… nevermind spoon-feed you your powers. Your earrings have gone blank.” 

Marinette’s heart sank as her fingers absently touched her earlobes. Indeed, the familiar hum normally animating the jewelry seemed gone. Tears stung at her eyes and she was suddenly very glad Chat couldn’t see her, though somehow his hand had found its way to squeeze hers anyway.

“She was too weak to even stay in the earrings anymore…” Marinette realized, whispering sadly to herself. “Is she going to be alright?” she asked then, doing her best to steady herself, “When will she come back?” 

“How should I know?” the black cat kwami answered curtly. “It’s up to her. It could be five minutes, it could be two months. It depends how much energy she’s lost, and how careless her user was.” 

“That’s not fair, Plagg,” Chat interjected. “We’ve never faced an akuma like that.” He paused, as they both replayed the grim encounter in their minds.

“I did everything I could…” Marinette said dejectedly, “But it wasn’t enough. She was just toying with us the entire time. ...Poor Tikki….” 

“She’ll be back, Milady…” Chat encouraged, though she suspected he had no idea how. Still, the attempt at comfort was appreciated. She was laid bare without Tikki…stripped of her power source and most importantly, of her dear friend. The hand on her shoulder squeezed gently and she felt her composure crack. The last thing she wanted was to crumble in front of her partner, but the loss of Tikki was too much to bear. In addition to her substantial injuries, the news sent her world spinning as tears threatened to spill. She buckled forward.

“Whoa, there Bugs...” Chat exclaimed with concern. Again, his unmasked voice betrayed a tenderness she’d never heard before. Well, not from him anyway. “We should get you to a hospital, right meow.” 

“Too late,” she groaned, “I think that pun just killed me.” 

“Hey, you can take the cat out of the mask but you can’t take the… mask… uhm... out of the…. Well, you get it,” he half-chuckled, “Anyway, we’ll figure all of this out and get you some help. I’ve got your back.”

Marinette had merely grinned, forgetting he couldn’t see it. “I’m okay,” she lied, “So no hospitals. But since you have my back, I’ll take yours, Chaton.” Before her partner could object, she readjusted herself, though not without a few squeaks of discomfort courtesy of Medusa. She had groped her way into an upright position, and the pair were now seated back to back. The defeated heroine made no effort to hide her exhaustion and sighed deeply. 

“There. This way we can preserve our identities and open our eyes,” she said, doing so. The gloomy cityscape came into view, doing little to raise her hopes. Chat’s fingers came to comfortingly brush hers, even though now, they were no more than strangers sitting together in an unlikely place. 

“Don’t worry Milady,” her trusted partner said, “I won’t turn around. Promise.” 

“I know Chaton. Me too.”


	3. Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heroes contemplate their failure more closely, and realize that the akuma they faced was anything but normal.  
> (I promise this is going somewhere! Thanks very much for reading, I really appreciate it!)

They’d both settled into a deflated silence for a while, contemplating the horrible events of the day whilst licking their literal and proverbial wounds. The grey Paris skyline hanging above seemed only to mirror the dampened mood, and Marinette stared at it vacantly as she went about removing her magical jewelry. The small orbs had faded to a dull salmon from a bright red, while the black polka dots formerly decorating their glossy surface had dissipated altogether. She squeezed the earrings in her fist, breathing as deeply as she could. Crying would solve nothing, though the disappointment was sharp and relentless, stinging her eyes and the back of her throat. Instead, she would redeem this defeat. She vowed to become stronger, so that this would never happen to her beloved kwami again. 

Day was slowly fading, and Marinette at least, would be sought after. She had little idea of Chat Noir’s real life agenda, though her mind inevitably wandered towards theories of warm milk and tuna cans. She quickly dismissed those however, trying to regain some sort of focus. After all, for all her exhaustion, she still had responsibilities other than the overwhelming burden of being one of the city’s protectors, which included helping her parents with the bakery, preparing her final design presentation for the semester (which was due in just a few days…) getting back to Alya whom she’d been remorsefully ignoring because of her duties. At this rate, she’d be lucky not to have to bake apology cookies until she was 75, for all the people she was letting down. It wasn’t exactly a tranquil life, but the vibrant young woman usually thrived on it, feeling incredibly lucky for the superhuman opportunities offered to her by the kwami. Today however, it all seemed like an impossibly big ball of yarn which was unravelling away from her very mortal, and limited grasp. She rolled her eyes, certain that Chat would have enjoyed the discouraging analogy. She kept it to herself as she slumped against him however, trying to figure out their next move amidst the web of anxiety slowly weaving itself around her nerves.

Surprisingly, it was Plagg who spoke up next. His bitterness had considerably dissipated. 

“Look, I know you two did your best. I was struggling to maintain Ad-...er… Chat Noir’s cohesion myself.” 

He hovered to Marinette’s eye level, munching on a tiny remnant of camembert. It seemed Chat had come ready, which gave her even more reason to chastise her own unpreparedness by comparison. If she’d been more vigilant, Tikki might not have been forced to dematerialize. She would have to unpack that awful truth later however, as the black cat kwami floated closer. 

“I think you’re right about it toying with us, though. It feels different from the others. It’s almost too sophisticated for Hawkmoth’s usual taste.”

She’d been afraid of that, and Chat chuckled darkly in agreement. 

“Yeah. Well maybe he finally got sick of halfwit pigeon men looking to poop their way to the top, or sad lovesick artists looking to exact their revenge through “date-napping” schoolgirls...”

Marinette blanched at the reference towards her unfortunate evening with an akumatized Nathaniel. How strange that of all their encounters, Chat should bring up that specific one. Was it possible that he knew, somehow? Or… could he have been thinking about Marinette? She kept silent at the odd coincidence as he went on, ignoring the screaming implications in her mind. 

“Maybe he found someone with real problems and brains to take advantage of this time,” she offered.

“Yes,” Plagg confirmed, “And worse still, I think this akuma was specifically tuned into kwami energy.” 

“What do you mean?” Marinette asked in muted alarm

“I mean that’s why you both lasted precisely three and a half seconds before those tentacles sapped all your strength…

“You mean YOUR strength,” Chat corrected snarkily, sounding defensive. Clearly he wasn’t too thrilled at their performance either, and in a petty sort of way, this made Marinette feel better. At least she wasn’t alone in her failure. Plagg could only roll his tiny cat eyes at them both, however.

“Ours, yours, all of us, who cares, it’s all the same! The point is, Medusa had us beat before the fight had even started.... And despite that, all those regular, non-superhero casualties down there are already starting to get up.” He nodded his bulbous head towards the streets below to emphasize the observation. 

Indeed, though they appeared bewildered and frightened, those citizens affected by the akuma’s attack seemed largely unharmed except for superficial injuries. As soon as their wits had returned to an acceptable extent, dozens were seen scrambling back to their homes as police and ambulance sirens wailed throughout the city of lights. It was a surreal ambiance for the pair of heroes, most notably for Ladybug, whose Miracle cure always healed akuma damage in a battle’s wake. Though relatively minor the problems were, to have architectural damage, bystander injuries and palpable fear permeating the streets, was a marker of a personal failing the young heroine could not properly swallow.

“How could she have done this? Have you ever encountered an akuma that wanted to well… eat kwamis before?” Chat asked. Though crude, his description was on point, and Plagg merely shook his head. 

“I’ve seen tough monsters in my day,” he admitted, “but I’ve never encountered one that could drain miraculous energy the way that thing did.” 

“This changes the game altogether….” Chat sighed, shifting nervously against Ladybug’s back. She could feel him fidgeting, and his uncharacteristic anxiety only amplified her own worry. Their instincts and feelings always fed off each other in times of battle and so it made sense that their civilian forms would also retain that sync. She realized then, how much of an anchor Chat truly was to her, if only because feeling him so agitated was disconcerting. She had to try and get to the bottom of this defeat, for both their sakes. 

“I really hate to say this,” Marinette began uncomfortably, “but it’s not like we were winning that fight so… If it was so easy for her…” she proposed, “then why didn’t she just take our miraculouses and call it a day? Why let us go?” 

It was a valid, and thus far, unanswerable question.


End file.
